Эрин Хантер - Battles of the Clans

“That’s enough, Cloudpaw.” A flash of anger swept across Foxheart’s expression, and Lionpaw wondered whether the apprentice would get in trouble later on for speaking up. “We don’t have to explain ourselves.”

Another cat emerged, his dark gray pelt well hidden among the shadows beneath the tree.

“That’s right. ThunderClan patrols don’t scare us.”

“Well, they should!” Bluepaw hissed, unsheathing her claws. “We’re not afraid of you!”

Lionpaw looked sideways at his denmate. Really? You’re not scared? He looked back at the ShadowClan cats, all of them so much bigger than he was, with long, curved claws and powerful shoulders. And a hunger in their eyes that yearned for more than fresh-kill.

Sunfall lifted his head. “Leave now, and this matter will be forgotten.”

“Or what?” Foxheart asked with a hint of a growl.

“Or we’ll make you leave,” snarled Swiftbreeze, taking one step forward.

Foxheart let out a hiss. “Oh, I’m going to enjoy this,” he murmured. His gaze fell on Lionpaw.

“I’ll start with that trembling lump of fur over there. I’ll slice his ears so he can’t hear his own screams of pain, then shred his muzzle until he begs to be put out of his agony.”

Sunfall let out a yowl and sprang toward the ShadowClan cat. Swiftbreeze leaped forward beside him, and Bluepaw crouched down with her claws out. Lionpaw’s vision blurred and the blood roared in his ears. He couldn’t fight these cats! StarClan, save me!

He spun around on numb, shaking paws and scrabbled across the damp forest floor. All he could think of was getting far, far away from those terrible cats.

Suddenly a log reared up in front of him and he crashed into the furrowed gray bark. Reeling back, he sat down hard, dazed and bruised. Where did he think he was running to? He couldn’t leave the territory: Where would he go? How would he survive? But he couldn’t go back to the camp. His Clanmates would know he had been too scared to fight ShadowClan warriors. He might not even be allowed to go back. Pinestar might send him away! Warriors were supposed to have courage in the face of the fiercest enemies, but Lionpaw had none. Icy drops of rain started to fall, bouncing on his fur and making him shiver. Looking around, he realized that he had run all the way to Snakerocks, the pile of rugged gray stones in the middle of the forest where adders lived. Only in hot weather, though—in leaf-bare, the snakes hid themselves away, leaving the rocks safe for hunting. And shelter.

Lionpaw spotted a shadowed entrance at the foot of the stones and trotted over to it. The cave stretched farther back than he could see, and smelled of fox, but the scent was old and stale, and Lionpaw couldn’t hear anything moving about inside. He could stay here for a while, maybe catch something to eat, and figure out what he was going to do next. He squeezed through the gap and lay down on the bare earth, pressing his back against the rock. It was cold and uncomfortable compared with his mossy nest in the apprentices’ den, but he didn’t let himself think about that. He’d have to get used to finding other places to shelter, now that he couldn’t be a Clan cat.

He didn’t mean to sleep, but when he looked out of the entrance again the forest was hidden in shadow, and a few stars twinkled in the branches. Lionpaw looked at his paws, feeling his fur burn with shame. Were his warrior ancestors gazing down at him with anger that he had run away from the battle? Or shame that he had failed his Clanmates and broken the warrior code? Or pity that he was such a pathetic, useless apprentice that he couldn’t stand his ground against a few trespassers?

There was a rustle on the far side of the clearing. Lionpaw stiffened, bristling. Had the ShadowClan cats tracked him down to make good on their threats? Or was a hungry fox looking for a meal? Lionpaw started to back into the cave, one paw at a time.

“Lionpaw, are you there?”

“I definitely caught his scent back there, but it’s harder out in the open,” complained another voice.

“Keep trying. Please, StarClan, don’t let him have left the territory.”

Lionpaw blinked. Swiftbreeze and Bluepaw were looking for him! He shrank farther back beneath the rock. Were they going to punish him for running away? Then his lip curled in disgust.

What are you doing, cowering from your own Clanmates? You may have been too much of a coward to face ShadowClan, but you can stand up and take your punishment!

Trying not to whimper with shame, he crept out of the cave. Two shapes were just visible in the darkness.

“Swiftbreeze! I’ve picked up his trail!” Bluepaw mewed excitedly.

“I’m here,” Lionpaw croaked.

There was the sound of paw steps; then Swiftbreeze and Bluepaw were curling around him, pressing their warm pelts against his flanks and purring louder than a horde of bees.

“Oh, thank StarClan we found you!” Swiftbreeze murmured. “You silly mouse-brain, we’ve been worried!”

“You missed a good old skirmish, too!” Bluepaw chirped. “Adderfang and Thistlepaw showed up just in time to give those ShadowClan warriors a bashing they won’t forget! I can’t believe they thought we’d let them hunt on our territory!”

Lionpaw pulled himself away and hung his head. “I’m sorry I ran away,” he blurted out. “Have you come to punish me?”

Swiftbreeze paused, and he could tell she was looking at him through the half-light. “Punish you?”

“Yes, for being scared!”

There was a rustle of movement, and Lionpaw felt his mentor lick his ear. “Oh, Lionpaw, every cat gets scared sometimes. Even the strongest warriors.”

“Yeah, even I got a bit scared today!” Bluepaw added.

Swiftbreeze’s breath was warm on Lionpaw’s ear. “You shouldn’t have run away. You should have trusted your Clanmates to protect you—do you really think I’d let any cat hurt you? I’d be a pretty useless mentor if I sent my apprentice into battle before I’d taught him how to take care of himself!”

“But what if I’m always too scared to fight?” Lionpaw asked in a small voice. “I can’t be a warrior like that.”

Swiftbreeze purred. “If you don’t feel any fear, you will never be able to feel brave. Courage is nothing without the knowledge of what you face. Give me time to teach you how to fight and defend yourself, and use the size and weight of your enemy against him. Then you’ll find courage deep inside.”

She moved away, and Lionpaw felt the air chill against his flank. “Now, come back to the camp,” she meowed more briskly. “I bet you haven’t had anything to eat all day. Pinestar wants to speak with you”—Lionpaw swallowed hard—“but he won’t punish you. You’ll be a great warrior one day, I promise.”

She started to walk back across the clearing, and Lionpaw ran to catch up. His heart swelled with relief and love for his Clanmates. Maybe Swiftbreeze was right: Because he had known what it was like to be really, really scared, he would understand more about courage. And when he had an apprentice, he would teach them that it was okay to be frightened sometimes. In fact, it was a sign of the best warriors!

It began at a Gathering, not here on the island but in the hollow with the four Great Oak trees, back in the forest. The ThunderClan leader, Morningstar, stood on the Great Rock beneath the shadows of the oak trees and let his voice cut through the icy air. “If all five Clans are here, let the Gathering begin!”

There were murmurs and shuffles from below as the cats found places to sit among their Clanmates, and scowled at other Clans who dared to push too close. Morningstar waited impatiently, feeling his paws freeze to the stone. Behind him, the other leaders shifted their haunches; the rock was painfully cold to sit on, but only one leader at a time stood to address the Clans.